


Red in the Water

by The_Selkie_Queen



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First work - Freeform, Freeform, How do I tag?, Multi, No Beta, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, We Die Like Men, not android either, not entirely human main character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 06:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Selkie_Queen/pseuds/The_Selkie_Queen
Summary: She wasn't anyone special. She wasn't supposed to be. If she cant go home, then she wants to make a new one. But first she has to pave a new road. She was fished out of a river and into a world where there are robots, murders, and strange men living with even stranger androids. This is her trying to learn how to live again.





	Red in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first story that I have written in quite a long time, and the first one put onto the internet in an even longer time. Please be kind, but criticism is always appreciated. I don't know exactly how to edit on this site, I don't have a beta and this is mostly free form. I'm writing as I'm trying to get my life back together. So, this is more of a cathartic thing and I hope to at least entertain.

Red hair, that was the first thing you would notice. Curly and wavy. Not knowing when to curl or when to bounce. It was something one would expect from a wig or custom android. It was everywhere today. All over her average frame and only ended at her waist in the back, however it moved all around her, two long strips fell onto her shoulders and bounced around her arms. It was almost like armor to her, a helpful distraction from those that would try to describe her. A feather in a helmet, a showing of rank in an almost invisible army.  
Her skin was smeared with freckles. That was probably the second thing you would notice, small dots along the skin she would show. A lot on her cheeks, but perhaps the more distracting were the ones on her shoulders, two little strips of skin peeping through the shirt. Those were the ones that would be hidden and quickly flashed through the curtain of her hair only to be shrouded again as she walked.  
The third was probably her dark brown eyes hidden behind glasses. They looked almost black, the iris itself was slightly larger than normal causing an unsettling feeling of otherworldliness to those that investigated them. Perhaps her almond eyes were too wide, too big for her face, yet still not large enough to hold the iris. The unsettling color mixed with the size did nothing to help her, but at least it wasn’t the first thing you would notice. It was one of the reasons her hair was down today. A distraction, a curtain, a red herring, anything to diverge attention away from her face.

Today was not a great day.

While she had today off, it was early afternoon and she just got up an hour ago. She easily slept the day away and only just got up to find that the day was half over. If she had any say, she would have slept even longer, missed the appointments and would only leave the house when the police would come knocking. And they would come knocking, because it wasn’t enough that she was a freak of nature, oh no, she was just an ‘uncommon anomaly’. Whatever that meant. All she knew was that once a month she goes to the police station, pop in, say ‘I’m still alive, I’m still here, I need my check.’ Then she goes to the hospital, gets some blood work done, ‘I’m still alive, I’m still here, no, I haven’t gotten laid. No, I can still see. Yes, I still need sleep. No, I haven’t felt the need to jump into the freezing river. No, I will not live in an institution for people like me. Yes, I am trying to assimilate. Can I go now?’ and if the hospital does let her go on time then she can go home and maybe watch tv before bed. What about dinner? Some fast food should work. Really, she already knows she won’t be able to cook tonight.  
The more she walked the more it dawned on her how much she hated the hospital. Surprisingly, she didn’t mind the police station. It was busy, yes, smelled weird like a mix of recycled air and something not really there, and of course it took her a while to withstand the strange mix of dark and bright light that assaulted her sensitive eyes, but it was almost relaxing in the mundane, existential flurry of grey and green that was the outside. At least it was mostly blue and black inside. The people who worked there didn’t mind her. Her case was just one of a hundred in the whole city. Not a lot of cases like her, but it was enough to give some understanding. They were perhaps more understanding here than other cities. She was told that by a man she met who was like her. 

Someone who went to sleep one day and woke up in a river somewhere else.

The man, Greg, said that one of the policemen came from a family that was ‘like us.’ Like her? No. But like her and Greg? Yes. Because that one catastrophic thing that happens to you can lump you in a group you never knew existed. Apparently, it’s been going on here for eons. Legends, myths, and rumors litter different cultures here. And she couldn’t bear to face it all yet. Not yet.  
Six months.  
She’s been awake for six months. She’s been here for over a year, in a sort of daze. Denial and fascination mixed together with a big Fuck You reaction hadn’t made for the best first months. Wanting it all to be a dream, hoping, waiting to wake up, while having a bunch of people, you don’t know, all from different walks trying to talk over each other. That’s what it was like living in the institution. They refused to assimilate, refused to learn how to live again. They made their own life within the four walls of their bedroom cell and stayed there. She would have stayed too if it weren’t for a strange young man with a glowing circle on his temple.  
Lars. His name was Lars.  
He was kind, in a polite way. He didn’t really like to be asked questions about the glowing light. He would come in and talk to her about her life before she was fished out of the river. However brief their conversations were, it didn’t matter. He was… something. He would start out bringing food, taking blood, and making sure nothing in the room was broken. She wasn’t suicidal, but she got the feeling that that must have been a common occurrence. Slowly, she answered the questions and asked more of her own. 

Where am I? was only ask once and was answered clinically.  
Detroit, Michigan.  
Why am I here?  
I don’t know.  
What time is it?  
You have a clock on the wall.  
Where is everyone?  
Wherever they want to be.  
I meant my family.  
I don’t know.  
Who are you?  
Lars. YW500 Prototype.  
What?  
Do you wish for me to repeat myself?  
No. Your name is Lars.

Slowly but surely she asked more questions. However, his answers were always short if he could help it. He was funny in a way. He would walk in a way that was almost owlish. Hunched over, but not because he was scared. It was almost like he wanted to make himself smaller, which was hard for him. He was not big, but not gangly, looked like he was maybe mid-thirties. He was a tall, green eyed, pale, blonde man with a blue glowing circle. Sometimes it changed colors. She saw it turn yellow a bunch of times. But the last time she saw him it was red. Then he was gone.  
She didn’t remember what happened. But she remembered the cold. She remembered big hands, cold water, screaming, and then nothing. Just her companion standing Infront of her with a red circle in a dark room. There was a shadow too. A tall shadow in the room that he was facing, his back was to her with his head tilted so he could see her. She remembered feeling wet, cold, and scared of the shadow. Then there was a noise, like metal on metal and then, then she was sleepy just tired. And then the next day when she woke up no more Lars. No one could talk about him. No one knew where he was. No one even saw him for a week prior, even though he visited her every day since she came here.  
She woke up in more ways than one that day. She remembered wanting out of there. Out of the building, out into the world beyond the fences. Her eyes opened and she walked up to a man in a white coat and asked how she can get out of here. Not the best strategy, but hey, she was barely thinking. She just woke up from a daze… that lasted months. The doctor nodded and smiled. He walked with her and told her what to do. Mostly take some classes, added counseling, and doing some fingerprinting. Simple enough, it took her around two extra months to finish. She didn’t take any college classes that were offered to her; she went to tech school in her last life and graduated with high honors. Despite the love of learning she had, school was never a big priority. She loved learning on her own terms. She got a credit for future schooling on her file. The government was really trying to spoil those who pop up here and there. Free voters, she thought. And in a world where unemployment was up 35% due to unpaid androids, the government gave everyone like her a high priority when it came to her resume and background checks. Giving businesses a little tax right off when they hired people like her. Free voters was right.  
While she was walking to the station, ruminating on her current life, she went into a coffee shop she usually went to on the way. It was a small treat, a large café con leche with a spritz of vanilla and a toasted bagel. Something to remind her of home. The android who was working the counter saw her walk in and had it ready. The shop was usually empty at this time and she would sometimes sit and talk with the android, his name was Jerry. And he had a strange way of smiling when the need arose. She was never good with faces or names, only good with voices. Strange how many times that androids had the same name or face; they didn’t mind repeating themselves. And for some reason it was easier to talk to them. They would store the information that she would say or delete it. No questions asked. People were nice. Androids were nice. But androids were a lot to get used to. Luckily, she was all things scifi, anime, and actual science when she was in her teens. Isamov, Chobits, and current affairs in her old world helped her get used to androids here, at least subconsciously.  
Lars was her first introduction to the world. No human helped her. Just him. So it made some sense that she did her best to be kind to those that she saw. She learned a little on upkeep and now had a few little bottles of Therium in her purse just in case. She also was known to buy big bottles from time to time for the two homeless androids near the house she was staying in. They were nice, if a little strange. They weren’t as robotic as others.  
And so, here she was trudging along a busy road to a police station to give an update on her current whereabouts. People, androids, and dogs, constantly bumping into the red head. She may wear a hat next time, it was getting cold. She hated the cold here, it was sharp, bitter even. It bit and sucked you down to your bones. 

Big hands and cold water.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts and scrunching up her eyes to help it she walked up to the station and opened the doors. Her red hair was all over the place, floating through the air as she opened her eyes. Her bagel bag switch to the hand with her coffee and went right into her right pocket and pulled out a note. On it was the detective assigned to her case while her usual one was on maternity leave. Walking up to the front desk she looked up at one of the few androids she could never remember the name of and smiled.  
“Hello, my name is Gwenn MacLeish, I’m here to see Detective,” looking down to the paper in her hand, “Detective Reed.”


End file.
